A Supernatural Calling
by Supervillegirl
Summary: A mysterious woman is trailing Dean and Sam, with a message of a fatal day. XOVER with Tru Calling.
1. Chapter 1

A Supernatural Calling

Crossover between Tru Calling and Supernatural

Supernatural: Set after "Tall Tales"

Tru Calling: Set after "Longest Day"

Chapter One

**The perspective is from Tru for the first chapter. The Winchesters will join in the second chapter.**

Tru Davies headed out of the elevator, staring at the paperwork in her arms. She ran into someone, and her papers went flying.

"I am so sorry," said Gardez, squatting down to help her pick up the files.

"Oh, it's okay," said Tru as she squatted down also. "I only had them alphabetized and in chronological sequence."

"You need some help getting it back together?" asked Gardez, handing her the papers.

"No, no, it's your day off," said Tru, standing with her messy pile. "Go on. I got it under control."

"Sorry again," said Gardez as he entered the elevator.

"Yeah, sure, it only took all night to organize these," muttered Tru as she walked into the morgue.

Davis poked his head out of the office. "You get the files from the county clerk's office?"

Tru looked down at the mess in her arms. "If you count the filing nightmare that I'm carrying, then yeah."

Davis frowned. "What happened?"

"Ran into Gardez in the hall," Tru explained as she set the pile down on one of the tables.

"So you need some help?" asked Davis.

"Please," said Tru.

They began sifting through the files, reorganizing them. They were halfway through when the morgue doors opened.

"Oh, sis!"

Tru looked over to see her younger brother Harrison walking into the room.

"I have been looking all over for you!" said Harrison.

"It's my work day," said Tru. "Where have you been looking?"

Harrison's smile faltered a little. "Oh, well, you know…around." He shook his head. "Listen, I need some help."

"You need help?" asked Tru.

"Yeah, you help dead people all the time, why not your own brother?" said Harrison. "I have a…kind of a business-venture related…minor thing that—"

"What did you do this time?" asked Tru.

"Why do you always assume that it's something **I** did?" asked Harrison. Tru just stared at him. "Alright, so I may have…lost my rent money."

"Again? What did you do?"

"Ah, the ponies didn't pay out."

"You gambled on ponies? Gosh, Harrison, when are you gonna learn?"

"Hey, I learn."

"Yeah? When are you gonna get a job?"

"No, no, no. Harrison Davies don't need no job."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah."

"And how are you going to pay your rent?"

"Because you're the best sister ever."

Tru smiled. "Nice try, Harry."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?"

"Get a job."

"My rent is due tomorrow, Tru."

"You can work here," Davis interjected.

Harrison frowned at him. "What would I do in a morgue?"

"You can help Gardez at pickups," said Davis. "We need someone to work the other shifts."

"See?" said Tru. "That works."

Harrison smiled. "Ah, thanks, man! Look, no offense, but with tomorrow just around the corner—"

"I'll give you an advance," said Davis. "As long as you promise not to gamble it all away."

"Oh, yeah, yeah," said Harrison. "No worries. So…where do I start?"

Davis pulled out a spray bottle of cleaner and a towel. "You can clean the back of the van."

Harrison smiled glumly as he accepted the bottle and rag. "Oh, yay." He set off towards the garage to clean the van.

"Thanks, Davis," said Tru.

"No problem," said Davis. "Whatever will keep him out of trouble."

Tru's cell phone rang, and she pulled it open, putting it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Tru, have you seen your brother?" asked Tru's best friend Lindsey.

"Hello, Lindsey," said Tru. "It's good to hear from you, too."

"Sorry," said Lindsey. "It's just, Harrison was supposed to meet me twenty minutes ago."

"Yeah, he's at work," Tru replied.

Lindsey hesitated. "Okay, we are talking about your brother, right?"

"Yeah, Davis offered him a job at the morgue, and Harrison took it."

"Wow," said Lindsey, sounding impressed. "I never thought I'd see the day when Harrison Davies became part of society."

"Tell me about it."

"So what's your boss got him doing?"

"Well, right now, he's cleaning the blood and DNA from the back of the morgue van."

"Oh, man! And he said he'd take the job?"

"Well, he kinda didn't have a choice."

Lindsey sighed. "He lost money, didn't he?"

"That's our Harry."

"Well, at least he's doing something about it this time."

"Want me to give him a message?"

"Uh, just that I'm not mad for him kind of blowing me off."

Tru smiled. "Will do. Bye, Lindsey."

"See you, Midge-cakes."

Tru hung up as she pulled the last of the files into her neat pile. "Be right back, Davis."

"Alright," said Davis as he took the reorganized files into the office.

Tru headed out the door and down the hall towards the garage. She walked through the doors to find Harrison half-in the back doors of the van, scrubbing the floor.

"Hey, Harry," said Tru.

Harrison poked his head out of the van. "Hey, Tru."

"Lindsey sends her love."

Harrison froze and looked at her. "She's not mad, is she?"

"I explained that you got a job 'cause you were low on money."

"And?"

"She appreciated that you were fixing your problem yourself instead of letting someone else do it for you."

"Oh, okay."

"Hey, I gotta run some errands for Davis. Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'm not a kid, Tru. I think I can handle a job on my own."

Tru smiled. "Alright, Harry. See you later."

* * *

"Excuse me," came a voice at the office door.

Davis looked up to see two men in suits at the office door. He couldn't see them too well since he had lost his contacts earlier that day, but he could still make out stuff good enough to go without glasses for the day.

"I'm Agent Murdoch," said the one who had spoken, flashing what appeared to be maybe an FBI badge. He was shorter than the other one. He gestured to the taller man. "This is Agent Simmons." Agent Simmons also flashed a badge.

"How can I help you?" asked Davis.

"We're investigating Mr. Nelson's death," said Agent Simmons. "We need to see his body."

"Okay," said Davis. "I'll take you back there."

He led the two FBI agents down the hallway and into the crypt, where they kept the bodies. He walked over to Eddie Nelson's drawer and pulled him out.

"Now, he was found two nights ago, correct?" asked Agent Simmons.

"Yes," said Davis.

"First night of the full moon," Agent Simmons muttered to his partner.

"What's that got to do with it?" asked Davis.

"Nothing," said Agent Murdoch. "And his heart was missing?"

"Yeah," said Davis. "The police think it might have been a wild animal."

"Oh, I'll bet," muttered Agent Murdoch. "Do you know if Eddie had any enemies?"

"Um…I don't think so," said Davis, frowning. "I mean, the police didn't tell us much."

"Anything else unusual about the body?" asked Agent Simmons.

"The police found animal hair on the body," said Davis. "That's why they believe it was a mauling."

"Let me guess, canine?" said Agent Murdoch.

"Uh," Davis consulted his chart, "yeah. How'd you know that?"

"Lucky guess," said Agent Murdoch.

"Alright, that'll be all," said Agent Simmons. "Thank you for your time."

The two agents walked out of the morgue and Davis returned to his office.

* * *

"Hey, Tru, thanks for running those errands," said Davis.

"No problem," said Tru as she put her bag by the desk in the morgue office. "How'd it go here?"

"Good," said Davis. "Two FBI agents, uh…Simmons and Murdoch stopped by to look at the Nelson body, but other than that, nothing exciting."

"Harrison do okay?" asked Tru.

"Yeah, he did fine," said Davis.

"Okay, any bodies come in?" asked Tru.

"No," said Davis. "Maybe there will be one tonight during Harrison's shift. I'll be sure to send him on it."

Tru looked at him. "You don't like Harrison all that much, do you?"

"No, it's not that. I'm just trying to keep him busy. You know, keep him occupied so he won't up and quit."

"Well, I'll go with him if there is a pickup."

* * *

Harrison sat in the office, waiting for something to do. Tru walked in and spotted him.

"Hey, Harry," said Tru. "How was your first day of work…ever?"

"Ha, ha," said Harrison. He shrugged. "It was okay." The beeper on Harrison's belt went off, and he looked down at it. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means we have a pickup," said Tru.

"A pickup?" asked Harrison.

"Yeah, a dead body to get," said Tru. "I'll go with you."

"Oh, fun," said Harrison.

They piled into the morgue van and drove to the address. As they pulled up to the alley, they inched past the police cars. Tru stared at the alley in horror as Harrison stopped the van.

"Oh, my gosh," muttered Tru.

Blood littered itself all over the alley floor and walls. It looked like a bloodbath. Tru and her brother got out of the van and approached the medical personnel by the wall.

"What happened?" asked Tru.

"We're not sure," said the man. "Neighbors heard a commotion and some yells around ten o'clock. If I didn't know any better, I'd say a wild animal attack."

"How many victims?" asked Tru.

"Well, one victim, two bodies."

Tru frowned. "What does that mean?"

"One victim was mauled, but the other victim was shot."

The man led them to the crime scene, and Tru gasped.

"Oh, my gosh," said Tru.

The two victims lay on the ground. One was on his back, chest completely torn open and blood all over his front. He had shaggy brown hair and was incredibly tall. Victim Two lay on his stomach, a pool of blood under him, and his hand was stretched toward Victim One. Victim Two was tall also, but maybe not as tall as the other. He had short-cropped sandy hair, full lips and a strong jaw.

"What do they think happened?" asked Harrison.

"They don't know," said the man. "I'll tell you: this case is whacked."

Tru and Harrison approached the bodies. Tru looked down at the smear of blood near Victim Two.

"Take a look at this," said Tru as she squatted down.

Harrison joined her. "What?"

"The direction of this smear," said Tru. "It looks as if he was trying to drag himself toward Victim One…as though he was trying to protect him."

"So, what…they were…together?" asked Harrison.

Tru rolled her eyes. "Let's just get them loaded up."

* * *

"How'd it go?" asked Davis as Tru and Harrison wheeled the two gurneys into the morgue.

"You should have seen it, Davis," said Tru. "It was like a scene straight out of _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_."

"What do we have?" asked Davis.

"We're not sure," Tru told him. She and Harrison loaded one body bag onto one table, and the other onto the other table. They then unzipped them. Tru was standing over Victim Two. "Victim Two here was shot, but he tried to drag himself over to his friend before he died."

"I still say they're together," Harrison muttered.

"Shut up, Harry," said Tru.

"And Victim One?" asked Davis, walking to the other table.

"They say he was mauled," said Tru. "But how does a wild animal run loose in New York?"

Davis was leaning over Victim One. "Huh…"

"What?" asked Harrison.

"Well, it looks like his heart is missing," said Davis. "Just like Eddie Nelson's body."

"So, the animal mauled him and stole his heart?" asked Harrison. "That's weird."

"They got any names?" asked Davis, searching Victim One's pockets.

"I don't know," said Tru. She went over and searched Victim Two's pockets. She pulled out several badges and IDs. "Whoa. This guy was into some serious fraud."

"So was this one," said Davis, showing her some more badges. He looked through them. "Marshal Sam Stiles, Agent Sam Simmons, Agent Sam Haggar—"

"Very original," chuckled Tru. "So, his name is Sam, and he uses rock aliases." Tru looked at the badges in her own hands. "Same thing over here. Agent Dean Murdoch, Officer Dean Turner, Inspector Dean Freeley. Maybe these two were working some fraud scandal."

"I got a driver's license," said Davis. "It was in his wallet, like, buried in his wallet. Sam Winchester, born May 2, 1983. That makes him 23 now."

Tru dug in Victim Two's jeans pockets and found a wallet. Hidden in a back fold behind a secret cut in the leather, she pulled out a driver's license. "Bingo. Dean Winchester, born January 24, 1979. 28. Looks like they were brothers, or something."

"That would explain why…Dean was trying to get to, uh…Sam," said Davis. Tru frowned at him. "Well, it's classic overprotective sibling behavior: the need to save the younger sibling."

Tru glanced over at Harrison, who was leaning against the table Sam was on. "I know the feeling."

Davis leaned closer over Sam's body. "Huh…"

"What?" asked Tru.

"Well, Sam has some splatters that are inconsistent with his own injuries," said Davis.

"Maybe it's blood from the killer," said Tru.

"Let's find out," said Davis. He swabbed a cotton swab in the blood and brought it over to a machine. They waited for a moment before the results popped up.

"Well?" asked Tru.

"Well, I was right," said Davis. "It isn't Sam's blood. But you know who it does match? Dean."

"Dean?"

"And the splatters are consistent with a gunshot."

"So…Dean was in front of Sam when he was shot?"

"He probably jumped in front of the bullet." Tru frowned at him. "Overprotective older brother."

"Right," said Tru. "So…someone was trying to shoot Sam, Dean jumped in the way and got shot. So maybe a wild animal came along and mauled Sam as he was trying to help Dean."

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Davis.

"You're missing something," said Harrison.

"We are?" asked Tru.

"Yeah, I overheard the cops talking as we were loading 'em up," said Harrison. "There had been a .45 on each of them, loaded with…get this…silver bullets."

"Silver bullets?" said Tru. "Who loads a gun with silver bullets?"

"And they each had a gun?" asked Davis.

"Yeah, one was about ten feet away from Dean and the other was next to Sam's hand," said Harrison.

"What were they doing: hunting werewolves?" said Tru.

They began removing the standards from the bodies. Dean had a silver ring on his right ring finger, a skull bracelet on his left hand, and a weird-looking bronze amulet hanging from his neck. Sam had a watch on his left hand and two thin black bracelets on his right hand.

"Hey, Tru, look at this," said Davis. Tru walked over to where Davis was at Sam's side. Davis had the left collar of Sam's shirt pulled down, and just under the left clavicle at the top of his pectoral was a tattoo. The skin around it was red and inflamed. "Looks pretty new." It was a pentacle inside of a sun-looking thing.

Tru walked over to Dean and pulled his collar down. "He's got one, too. Also fresh."

"What is it with these two?" asked Harrison.

"I don't know," said Tru, still staring at Dean's tattoo.

A hand suddenly clasped onto Tru's wrist, and she jumped. She looked down to see green, vibrant eyes glaring at her.

Dean opened his mouth in a snarl. "Help me already."

Tru felt a jolt as a whirl of color surrounded her. She jumped up in her bed, looking at the clock to see that her day had, indeed, rewound. She looked back at the room, thinking back to how Dean had asked for help.

"That was new," said Tru.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Tru picked up her phone and dialed Harrison's number.

"Baby, I was on my way," said Harrison as he answered. "Just give me half an hour—"

"It's not Lindsey," said Tru.

"Tru? What are you calling me for?"

"Drop the money and step away from the ponies."

"How did you know I was…I lost money yesterday, didn't I?"

"Yeah, and if I were you, I'd get your ass down to the morgue pronto."

"But I'm meeting Lindsey. If I don't show, she'll be pissed."

"She'll be a lot more impressed if you get a job."

"Where am I gonna get a job?"

"Davis will give you one, trust me."

"Fine, but if she bites my head off, I'm blaming you."

"Deal," said Tru, hanging up.

She quickly dressed and headed off, grabbing her files from the county clerk's office.

* * *

As the elevator doors opened, Tru stepped out and to the side as Gardez came rushing out the morgue doors. Tru side-stepped him as he came to a halt.

"Oh, hey, Tru," said Gardez. "Good day for work?"

"Better than yesterday," said Tru.

Gardez frowned. "You were off yesterday."

"Bye, Gardez," called Tru as she headed into the morgue.

"What is your brother doing here?" asked Davis as he walked next to Tru. "And why is he asking me to put him to work?"

"I was wondering if you could give him a job," said Tru.

"Why would I give him a job?" asked Davis.

"Because he needs it, and you did it yesterday."

"Oh," said Davis. "Fine. Who is it this time?"

"Sam and Dean Winchester. Brothers who were mauled and shot, respectively."

"Any idea what happened?"

"No, I don't even know where to find them. They had a lot of fake badges and guns full of silver bullets. Oh, and Sam's heart was missing."

"That's weird," said Davis. "How are you gonna find him?"

"I don't…" Tru trailed off as she remembered something from yesterday.

"_Two FBI agents, uh…Simmons and Murdoch stopped by to look at the Nelson body," Davis told her in the morgue office._

_Davis looked at Sam's badges. "Agent Sam Simmons—"_

_Tru pulled badges out of Dean's pockets. "Agent Dean Murdoch—"_

"Wait a minute!" said Tru. "Agents Simmons and Murdoch! Why did I not recognize those names?"

"What do you mean?" asked Davis.

"You told me that two FBI agents—Simmons and Murdoch—had dropped by to investigate that body that was mauled. Two of their badges were for Simmons and Murdoch!" She looked at Davis. "Why didn't you tell me who they were when they were brought in last night?"

"Probably because I lost my contacts," said Davis. "Everything's a little blurry today. I probably couldn't recognize them."

"Don't you have glasses?" asked Harrison.

"I hate glasses," said Davis.

"Well, now I don't have to look for them," said Tru. "They'll be by in about an hour."

* * *

Dean parked the Impala outside the City Morgue and pocketed his FBI badge. Sam did the same and climbed out of the car. They walked into the building and down to the morgue. There was no one in the standards area, but there were three people in the adjoining office. They approached the open door and stopped.

"Excuse me," said Dean.

The three turned and looked at him. The young man with scraggly blonde hair and goatee nodded at them. The redheaded guy with a beard and lab coat turned wide, inquisitive eyes on them. The young woman with brown hair and full lips looked at them, and her eyes widened.

"I'm Agent Murdoch," said Dean, flashing his FBI badge. He motioned towards Sam, who also flashed a badge. "This is Agent Simmons."

At their names, the two men stared just as apprehensively at them. The woman snapped out of her stare first.

"How can we help you?" she asked.

"We're investigating Mr. Nelson's death," said Sam. "We need to see his body."

"Of course," she said. "I'll accompany you. My name is Tru Davies."

Dean slapped on the most flirtatious smile he could muster. "You can call me Dean. This is Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Sam."

"Okay," said Tru. She led them to the double doors and down a hallway. "So, what are you two in town for?"

Dean shared a confused look with Sam. _Didn't we already go over this? _"We're looking into Mr. Nelson's death."

"Oh, right." Tru nodded. They reached the crypt and headed for the drawers.

"Now, he was found two nights ago, correct?" asked Sam.

"Yeah," said Tru.

"First night of the full moon," Sam muttered to Dean.

Tru frowned at them. "What?"

"Nothing," said Dean. Tru opened the drawer and pulled the body out. She pulled the sheet away from the mutilated body. "And his heart was missing?"

Tru seemed to falter as she stared in Sam's direction. "Yeah."

"Are you okay?" asked Sam.

"Yeah," said Tru, shaking herself.

"Alright, do you know if Eddie had any enemies?" asked Dean.

"Um…I don't know," said Tru. She looked at them. "Do you?"

Dean frowned. "Now, just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Tru shook her head. "Nothing."

"Anything else unusual about the body?" asked Sam.

"Um…some animal hair on the body," said Tru.

"Let me guess, canine?" said Dean.

Tru frowned. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," said Dean.

"Alright, that'll be all," said Sam. "Thank you for your time."

He and Dean began heading for the door when Tru ran up to them.

"Wait!" said Tru. They turned to her. "Um…what are you doing later tonight?"

Dean smiled at her. "Well, whatever you want, sweetheart."

Tru smiled at him. "I have a boyfriend."

Dean's smile faded. "Oh."

"Why do you want to know what we're doing?" asked Sam.

"Well, you guys look like you could use a break from federal duty," said Tru. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "How about a beer tonight around, say, ten?"

Dean opened his mouth to agree, when Sam intercepted him.

"Actually, that's when we have to work," said Sam. "Maybe tomorrow night, Tru."

As they headed out the door, they heard Tru mutter, "Tomorrow's too late."

As they walked down the hallway toward the elevator, they heard Tru's footsteps head back to the morgue.

"What was up with that girl?" asked Dean.

"No clue," said Sam. "That was weird."

"What a psycho," said Dean as he punched the button for the elevator.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Tru walked into the morgue, heading for the office. "Harrison, I need to borrow your car."

"Why?" asked Harrison.

"You know why," said Tru. "Come on, you're not using it."

Harrison rolled his eyes, handing his keys over. "Don't crash her."

"I would never!" smiled Tru. She ran up the staircase and headed out the front door. She looked around and spotted the brothers walking down the sidewalk. They stopped at a black 1967 Chevy Impala. "Bingo." She frowned. "That car was outside the alley last night."

As Sam climbed into the passenger seat and Dean got in the driver's seat, Tru hurried back to Harrison's Mustang. She waited until the Impala passed her, and she quickly drove after them.

* * *

Dean looked in his rearview mirror again.

_What the hell is up with this?_ he thought.

"Heads up," said Dean.

Sam looked over at him. "What?"

"Blue 60s Mustang," said Dean. "Been following us for five blocks."

Sam glanced behind them briefly before turning back around. "They after us?"

"With our luck, more than likely," muttered Dean.

"Can you lose 'em?"

"In New York traffic? Yeah, sure, let me just wave my magic wand."

"Dude. I was just asking."

"Let's see where this leads."

Dean drove to the local bar, where the victim had visited the night he died. As Dean parked on the side of the street, he looked in the rearview mirror and saw the Mustang park further down the road.

"Alright, it's official," said Dean. "They're following us."

"The werewolf?" asked Sam.

"Maybe," said Dean. "Come on."

Dean climbed out of the Impala, turning towards the trunk as he closed the door. He looked over towards the Mustang to see the girl from the morgue, Tru, getting out. Dean headed around the trunk, pretending like he hadn't spotted Tru and joining Sam on the sidewalk.

"It's that psycho from the morgue," said Dean as he and Sam walked towards the bar.

"What the hell?" said Sam as they approached the bar door. "So, she's the werewolf?"

"Nice cover, don't you think?" said Dean. "Has a little midnight snack and then cleans up her own mess."

"Got a plan?"

"Follow my lead," said Dean, opening the door and entering the bar. He and Sam approached the bar. Behind the bar, a mirror ran along the wall. Five minutes later, the bar door opened, and Dean glanced in the mirror to see Tru ducking into one of the back booths. Dean called the bartender over.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" asked the bartender.

"Certainly hope so," said Dean. He and Sam pulled out their badges. "Seen anyone suspicious around here lately?"

The bartender thought for a moment. "I don't know. Wait…There is this girl."

"What girl?" asked Sam.

"I don't know," said the bartender. "Some brunette girl. She's always asking tons of questions and following some people."

"Notice anything else off about her?" asked Dean.

"Other than the fact that she's staring you two down right now?"

"We know she's there," said Dean. "Don't draw attention to her."

"She trouble?"

"No," Sam told him. "We just need to ask her a few questions. Thank you for your time."

Sam and Dean exited the bar, heading back towards the Impala.

"Looks like we found our werewolf," said Sam.

"And it looks like she's found her next prey," said Dean as they climbed into the car. As they pulled into traffic, the Mustang followed. "I'd say it's time for a little Q&A."

* * *

Tru followed the Impala as it drove out of the city and to a motel just outside of town. The Impala parked in front of one of the rooms, and Tru parked the Mustang at the back of the lot. Sam and Dean got out of the Impala, pulling guns out of their jackets and heading to the secluded area behind the motel.

"Oh, no," said Tru, getting out of the car. "This can't be good."

She rushed over to the motel and crept around the corner.

"What the hell?" she muttered.

She stepped into the clearing between the motel and the tress, gazing at the empty area. The brothers were nowhere in sight. As she turned to head back to the Mustang, a hand came out of nowhere, hitting her across the face with a pistol.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Tru slowly came to, realizing she was tied to a chair. She pulled at the ropes on her wrists.

"What the hell?" she muttered.

"We should be asking you that question."

Tru watched as Dean walked in front of her, Sam joining him. She appeared the be in one of the motel rooms, probably theirs, judging by the two beds in the room. Dean was dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

_He was wearing that last night…_

She looked over to see Sam wearing jeans, a green plaid button-down, and a brown cargo jacket.

_They're both wearing what they wore when they died._

Tru also noticed that Dean was now wearing that bronze amulet. She looked up at them. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with us," growled Dean. "We know."

Tru frowned. "Know?"

"About you," said Sam, eyes narrowed at her, "and your little secret."

Tru's eyes widened. _How the hell did they find out? _"You know about me?"

"Don't act so surprised," said Dean. "We're not as stupid as you think."

"Okay," said Tru. "I know that my secret is a little shocking, but don't you think that this is taking things a little far?"

"You've killed people," growled Dean. "I think this is taking things just far enough."

"Whoa, don't you think you have that a little backwards?" said Tru.

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't kill people," said Tru. "I save them."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure that getting mauled and your heart ripped out is exactly what they wanted," said Dean.

"What? You mean Eddie?"

"Yeah, your little snack two nights ago," said Dean. "Thought you could get away with it, didn't you?"

"Get away with it?" said Tru. "I didn't do anything!"

"Nice try," said Dean. "But we know what you are."

"So you keep saying, but I'm not so sure," said Tru. "You've got it all wrong."

"Oh, do we?" said Dean.

"Yes!" Tru pleaded. "I am not killing these people, believe me! I'm saving their lives!"

"And we're going to believe a werewolf?" said Dean, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause you're not lying."

_Oh, my gosh…I was right. They really do think they're hunting werewolves._ Tru frowned. "Werewolf?"

"Yeah, werewolf, bitch," growled Dean.

Tru rolled her eyes. "Well, that would explain the silver bullets."

"Silver bullets?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, you both have a .45 loaded with silver bullets," said Tru.

Sam shared a shocked look with Dean. "How did you know that?"

"It's my secret," said Tru. "It's not that I'm a werewolf. It's that I'm…I save lives."

"You keep saying that, but what does that mean?" asked Sam.

"It means that dead people ask for my help," Tru explained. The brothers' eyebrows raised. "My day restarts, and I have to stop them from dying."

"That's insane," said Dean.

"This coming from the two guys who think they're hunting werewolves," said Tru.

"We **are** hunting werewolves," said Dean. "And you're one of them."

Sam put his hand up to cut Dean off. "Then why are you following us?"

"Yesterday, you were the ones that asked for my help," Tru told them.

* * *

"We asked for your help?" asked Sam.

"Well, technically, Dean did," said Tru.

"So let me get this straight," said Dean. "Sam and I died, I asked for your help, your day rewound, and now you're trying to stop us from dying."

"Exactly," said Tru.

"How are we supposed to believe you?" said Sam.

"The same way I know that Dean is carrying three badges: FBI Agent Dean Murdoch, Police Officer Dean Turner, and Private Investigator Dean Freeley. Sam is carrying three badges also: Federal Marshal Sam Stiles, FBI Agent Sam Simmons, and FBI Agent Sam Haggar. By the way, very original. You've both got tattoos just under your left collarbone—a pentacle inside of a sun. Judging by the look of them, I'd say you got them sometime in the last week. You've both got a hidden compartment in the leather of your wallets, where your real driver's licenses are. Dean Winchester, born January 24, 1979, Lawrence, Kansas. Sam Winchester, born May 2, 1983, Lawrence, Kansas."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks before emptying their jacket pockets to check which IDs they had on them.

"How do you know this?" asked Sam.

"Because the two of you were lying on slabs in the morgue last night," said Tru.

They stared at Tru for a moment before heading to the far side of the room.

"What do you think?" asked Sam.

"I think it's pretty freaking nuts," said Dean.

"Any more nuts than werewolves?" said Sam. "Or demons? Or spirits, or whatever the hell else we hunt?"

"I mean, come on, Sam," said Dean. "A girl who travels through time to save people? Its obviously a lie!"

"What about the IDs and the tattoos and the silver bullets? Hell, she even knew where we hide our real IDs and what was on them. Maybe we should give her a chance.

Dean glared at Tru, shaking his head. "Not without proof." He began advancing on Tru, pulling out a silver knife.

"Dean!" Sam called, heading to intercept.

Tru struggled in the chair. "No! Let me go!" Dean grabbed hold of her arm and drew the knife across her skin, drawing blood. "Ow!"

Dean stared at the cut. "It didn't hurt…"

"I think the word 'ow!' begs to differ," growled Tru.

"He meant the silver doesn't burn," said Sam. "You're not a werewolf."

"Duh, they don't exist," said Tru.

"Hate to break it to you, honey, but they do," said Dean as he knelt down on Tru's left to untie her leg and arm, as Sam untied the right.

"That's insane," said Tru.

"This coming from the girl who relives days," Dean threw back at her.

"Look at what you can do," said Sam. "Is it really so hard to believe?" Tru stood up and grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the nightstand. She placed it to the cut on her arm and held it there. "Dean and I, we're hunters. We hunt spirits and werewolves and other supernatural creatures."

"Huh," said Tru. "Well, that would explain what happened to you two."

"What are you talking about?" asked Dean.

"I think you guys better come with me," said Tru.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. What with Nursing school (the hardest semester of the entire program), financial troubles, and the last month of the semester (including finals week), I've had to put my stories on the backburner. But now finals are over and I will be dedicating the next month or so to finishing mine and starting some new ones. I WILL NOT ABANDON MY STORY!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Five

Once Tru had parked the Mustang and Dean had parked the Impala, Sam headed down the stairs to the morgue with Tru and Dean following.

"So, you're Sam's older brother?" asked Tru.

"Yeah," said Dean, watching Sam ahead of them on the stairs.

"You watch out for him, don't you?" asked Tru.

Dean looked at her. "I'd die for him."

Tru remembered Dean's outstretched hand, trying to get to his brother after taking a bullet for him. "Yeah, you would."

Dean looked at her. "Is that what happened?"

"Later," said Tru as they reached the morgue doors.

"Hey, Tru," said Harrison as the three of them entered. "Did you find those two dead guys?" He froze as he turned around and saw Sam and Dean. "Uh…I mean…have you…did you—"

"Dead guys are just fine, thanks for asking," said Dean. "And about that, you mind telling us the whole story?"

"Wait, you believe her?" asked Davis.

"Oh, trust me, we've seen crazier," said Dean.

"They say they're hunting werewolves," said Tru.

Davis looked at her, disbelief on his face. "Werewolves?"

"You people work with a time traveler!" said Dean. "All we do is hunt supernatural creatures!"

"Dean, calm down," said Sam. He turned to Tru. "Please tell us what you know."

"Alright," said Tru. "Last night around ten, the two of you were attacked. I don't know what happened. Harrison and I were called to pick up the bodies. Dean had been shot, most likely taking the bullet for Sam—"

"Wait, how do you know that?" asked Dean.

Tru recalled yesterday.

"_Sam has some splatters that are inconsistent with his own injuries," said Davis._

"_So, Dean was in front of Sam when he was shot?" asked Tru._

"Some of your blood had splattered onto Sam's clothes when you were shot," said Tru.

"And what happened to me?" asked Sam.

Tru recalled yesterday.

_Sam lay on his back, chest completely torn open and blood all over his front._

"_It looks like his heart is missing," said Davis in the morgue._

"You were mauled," said Tru. "And when I say mauled, I mean blood everywhere, skin shredded, heart missing—"

"Wait," said Sam. "Heart missing?"

"Yeah, is that significant?" asked Tru.

"When werewolves kill people, they eat their hearts," said Dean. "Looks like the werewolf got us before we could get her."

"But what about the gun?" said Sam. "Werewolves don't necessarily use weapons. That's what their teeth and claws are for."

"I don't know," said Dean. "Maybe the gun went off while I was trying to fight off the werewolf."

"No, it didn't," said Tru. The two brothers looked at her. "After you were shot, you died dragging yourself towards Sam's body." The brothers stared blankly at her. "The blood smears. From the looks of it, you were shot, and then the…werewolf went for Sam."

"Okay, say we believe you," began Dean.

"I thought we already established that we did," said Sam.

"So you say," said Dean. "Me, I'm still a little iffy."

Tru looked up at the television and noticed that it was 11:15. It was about this time yesterday that she was searching for something to watch on the television in the morgue. She walked over to the TV and turned it on. She flipped it over to channel 10 and waited.

"Literary figures for 200," said Tru.

The female contestant on Jeopardy on the screen turned to Alex Trebek. "Literary figures for 200, Alex."

Tru flipped to the next channel. "Can't we ever just get along? How much does it take until it's enough?"

The black man on the screen turned to the crowd of white people. "Can't we ever just get along? How much does it take until it's enough?"

Tru flipped to the next channel. "23, 52, 7, 11, 67. Powerball is 9."

The man on the screen set the lottery balls spinning, and they came up on screen. "23, 52, 7, 11, 67. And the Powerball is 9."

Tru stared at Dean, eyes narrowed maliciously at him. "Satisfied?"

Dean stared wide-eyed at Tru, looking between her and the television. "Bet you can't predict what's on the next channel."

Tru flipped the channel again, knowing it was the channel that she had stopped on to watch. "Here's Johnny."

Jack Nicholson poked his head through the hole he had made in the bathroom door with the axe, smiling wickedly. "Here's Johnny!"

Dean's jaw dropped.

"I think that was an equivalent to 'fuck you, Dean,'" said Sam with a smile.

"Shut up," muttered Dean.

"She totally showed you, man," laughed Sam.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," said Dean, looking at Tru. "How the hell can you do this?"

"I told you, I relived the day," said Tru.

"I'm not talking about the television," said Dean. "How can you relive days? What are you?"

"I don't think there's an exact title," said Tru. "I was just born this way."

"So you've been able to do this since you were born?" asked Sam.

"Okay, first of all, I don't do anything," said Tru. "I have no control over it. It just happens to me. Some days I'll relive, others I won't. Second, I've only been able to do this for a few months. I'm not sure what set it off, how it happened the first time. All I know is, dead people ask for my help, my day rewinds, and I have to save them."

"And you have no clue where this ability came from?" asked Dean skeptically.

"My mother could do it, too," said Tru.

"She never told you what it was?" asked Dean.

"She died ten years ago," said Tru. "I never knew about her ability until a few weeks ago."

Sam sighed a little. "Sorry."

"Not your fault," said Tru. "The point is, you two are going to die tonight unless I can stop it."

"So, what, you're just going to follow us around all day long?" asked Dean. Tru gave him a look. "Oh, no. No, you are not. We have work to do, and we can't afford to have Nancy Drew running around trying to play Scooby Doo."

"I'm trying to save your life!" Tru told him. "But you wanna run off and get dead, fine by me! Oh, and by the way, you might want to leave Sam here unless you want him to die also!"

Dean looked over at Sam and then down at the floor. He rolled his eyes as he looked up at Tru. "Fine, you win. What do you need us to do?"

"Well, first of all," began Tru, pulling out her cell phone, "you need to give me your numbers. And I need yours. Anything happens, and I mean anything—anything that may seem out of the ordinary or in some way relevant to…werewolves, or something—you call me right away. And no tough guy, 'I can take care of myself,' chauvinist crap. I can help, so just shove it and call me."

Dean stood at attention and gave her a mock-salute. "Sir, yes, sir."

Tru rolled her eyes as Dean headed towards the staircase. She looked at Sam. "How do you put up with that?"

Sam laughed as the two of them followed Dean. "Years of practice."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Six

Tru rolled her eyes. "Are we there yet?"

"Are we there yet?" Dean mocked. He glared at her in the rearview mirror. "You're worse than a five-year-old." Tru returned the glare. "Yes, we're almost there."

"And we're going here because?" Tru asked for about the fifth time since they got into the car back at the morgue.

Dean rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to—let's face it—probably cuss her out.

Sam turned his head to look at Tru, intercepting the fight. "We're heading to this woman's house because her husband was killed by the werewolf."

Tru nodded. "That body in the morgue."

"Yeah," said Sam. "We think that she can give us a clue as to who the werewolf is."

"How?" asked Tru.

"Usually, the werewolf goes after someone that they know," explained Sam. "Either an enemy or someone that they were close to. Maybe the wife knows who it might be."

Tru frowned. "You're going to ask her who the werewolf is?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "We'll just ask her if she's seen anyone of a canine persuasion." He looked at her in the rearview mirror. "Of course we're not gonna tell her the truth! We're gonna lie our asses off."

Tru leaned forward, placing her arms on the back of the front seat and looking at Dean. "Look, I'm the one giving up my day here to save your lives. So, could you maybe quit talking to me like I'm an idiot?"

Dean looked at her for a second before glancing back at the road. "Not promising anything."

They parked outside the house and headed to the front door. Dean knocked on the door, and a woman answered it.

"Hello, Mrs. Nelson," said Dean. "I'm Agent Murdoch." He gestured to Sam. "This is Agent Stiles. We're here to question you about your husband's death."

Mrs. Nelson looked at Tru. "Who is she?"

"Newbie," said Tru. "They're showing me the ropes."

Mrs. Nelson nodded. "Come on in."

The three of them walked into the living room.

"What was that?" hissed Dean.

"Improvisation," whispered Tru. "You like it?"

"Well, I was gonna go with: crazy psycho that won't leave us alone," Dean whispered back, "but newbie works, too."

Mrs. Nelson walked into the living room, offering them the couch. The three of them sat, Tru in between the brothers. Mrs. Nelson sat in one of the recliners.

"What would you like to know?" asked Mrs. Nelson.

"Did your husband have any enemies?" asked Dean.

Mrs. Nelson thought for a moment. "No…not that I know of. Why? I thought the police said it was an animal mauling."

"Well, there may be a new development in the case," said Sam. "Is there anyone you can think of that might have wanted to harm your husband?"

"Well…" she began.

"Yes?" asked Dean.

"There was this woman outside our house the night before Eddie died."

"Can you describe this woman?" asked Tru.

"She was about your size," said Mrs. Nelson. "But with blonde hair, and her eyes were…they were really bright…like they reflected in the light, or something." She looked up at them, realizing what she was saying. "It sounds crazy."

"No, it doesn't," said Sam. "Just…please, tell us what you know."

"That was really what I saw," said Mrs. Nelson. "And…I could have sworn she had…fangs."

"Fangs?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, fangs," said Mrs. Nelson. "There was something wrong with her teeth." She looked hopefully at them. "Does that help?"

"Yes, it does," said Sam. "Thank you very much."

The three of them stood up and headed out of her house.

"Okay, so this girl is the werewolf?" asked Tru.

"Yep," said Dean. "Now we need to find her and kill her."

"With the silver bullets?" asked Tru.

"One in the heart," Sam told her.

They headed across the street to the neighbor's house to see if they saw anything. A blonde girl darted around a parked car and ran right into Sam. She bounced back, and Sam steadied her with his hands on her shoulders.

"Oh, sorry," said the girl.

"Are you alright?" asked Sam.

The girl looked up at Sam and froze, a smile appearing on her face. "Yeah…Yeah, I'm hot." She seemed to realize what she just said. "I mean, I'm fine…fine." She smiled dreamily up at Sam. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," said Sam. "You sure you're alright?"

"Oh, I'm good, baby," said the girl.

Dean snorted as he turned away from the two "lovebirds."

"Uh, okay," said Sam. "Have a nice day."

"I will," said the girl, eyeing Sam's body as she walked away.

As Sam turned back to the other two with a red face, Dean burst out laughing.

"It's not funny," Sam growled out.

"You should get her number, Sammy-boy," said Dean. "I think she might've been into you."

"Dude, jailbait," said Sam.

"Oh, come on, she's gotta be at least eighteen," said Dean.

"Dean…case, werewolf," said Sam. "Clock's ticking here."

"Alright," said Dean as they headed for the front door of the house. Dean knocked on the door, and a man opened it. "Hello, I'm Agent Murdoch, this is Agent Stiles. We're with the FBI; we'd like to ask you some questions."

"Okay," said the man.

"Have you seen a blonde girl around the neighborhood, possibly around the Nelson home?" asked Sam.

"When haven't I?" said the man. "That kid practically stalked Ed. She had some kind of thing for him. She used to babysit their son, and then they fired her when she made some advances. But that didn't stop her." He paused, looking past them. "In fact, if you'd like to question her, there she is."

The three of them turned to see the blonde girl that had run into Sam at the foot of the driveway, peering around the bushes at Sam. When they spotted her, she startled and darted away from them. Dean and Tru looked in alarm from Sam to the retreating figure of the girl.

"Looks like she found her next target," Dean muttered under his breath.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Seven

"But she's just a kid," said Tru as they drove back to the morgue.

"That's what's so horrible about supernatural creatures," muttered Dean. "They go after the young ones and ruin their lives. The werewolf that turned her must've been a bastard."

"And there's no cure?" asked Tru.

"No hunter has ever found one," said Sam. He looked down at his clasped hands. "We don't have a choice."

Tru checked her watch. "Well, it's three o'clock. We have seven hours until you die."

"No pressure or anything," said Dean.

They parked the car and headed into the morgue. Davis and Harrison sat in the office.

"Hey, guys," said Tru.

"How'd it go?" asked Davis.

"Dean is a jerk, and the werewolf now has her sights set on Sam," said Tru. "Things are going great."

"Sounds like your day was productive," said Harrison. "It's slow around here. I was thinking of taking the van around town, maybe down Barnes Street. I'm so bored."

Tru froze as she remembered yesterday.

_Tru listened to a radio report at the morgue._

"_At approximately 3:20 this afternoon, a man fell asleep at the wheel and struck a small group of children on their way home while crossing Barnes Street. All six kids were killed instantly."_

"_Oh, my God," said Tru._

"Oh, my God!" Tru exclaimed. "I can't believe I almost forgot!"

"Forgot what?" asked Harrison.

"Barnes Street," said Tru. "Some kids got hit by a car at 3:20." She began rushing out of the morgue, calling back to the Winchesters. "Come on! I need help!"

They piled into the Impala, racing through the streets. Dean parked the car on the side of the road, and they ran towards a street corner.

"Where is it?" asked Sam.

Tru looked over at a crosswalk, where six eight-year-olds were just beginning to cross the road. Two hundred feet from the crosswalk, a white Camry drove down the street. The man behind the wheel began to drop his head.

"Run!" yelled Tru. She took off for the kids, hoping the brothers were following her.

Tru reached the crosswalk and grab a kid in each arm. She looked behind her to see Sam and Dean doing the same with the other four kids. The three of them ran back to the sidewalk just as the car swerved past them, crashing into a light pole across the street. The guy dazedly stumbled out of the car.

Tru looked down at the kids. "Is anyone hurt?"

The kids shook their heads. "Thank you." They all rushed off.

Dean looked over at Tru, frowning. "You really do relive days, don't you?"

Tru sighed in relief. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

Dean looked over at Sam and back at Tru. "And Sam and I really are going to die tonight?"

"Not if I can help it," said Tru.

Dean looked at Tru with newfound respect. "I'm sorry."

Tru smiled. "Better late than never."

Sam walked back into the office, where Dean, Tru and Davis sat. Harrison was out taking a drive.

"Dean, I was thinking," said Sam.

"That's never a good sign," said Dean around a mouthful of food.

"I'm serious," said Sam. "What if we use me as bait?"

Dean swallowed his food. "What?"

"I mean, this werewolf is after me, right?" said Sam. "And we can't find her, so why don't I go back to the neighborhood tonight and lure her into a trap."

"Sam—" began Dean.

"Look, it's the only way," said Sam.

"I don't like it," said Dean. "I'm not gonna let you."

"You'll be right there the whole time," said Sam. "I'll bring her to you." Dean gave him a look. "I **can** take care of myself, you know."

"Don't you see," said Tru. "You're walking right into your death."

"No, I'm not," said Sam. "You said we were found in an alley, right? Just down the street?"

"Yeah," said Tru.

"That neighborhood is ten minutes away from the alley," said Sam. "Steer clear of the alley, we don't die."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine. We'll head over there around 9:45. Good and dark."

"Anything I need to know for when we get there?" asked Tru.

"Whoa, whoa, you're not coming," said Dean.

"The hell I'm not," said Tru. "The day is not over. You could still end up in this morgue tonight."

"I think we can handle one little werewolf," said Dean.

"Yesterday proves you can't," said Tru. "You don't remember yesterday. You weren't there, but I was. I saw your dead, bloody, mutilated bodies. I have lost a person before, and I will not do it again."

Sam placed his hands on her arms. "You got to us and warned us about tonight. You told us everything that is going to happen. And better yet, we actually believe you. Trust me, you've done more than enough."

Tru nodded, finally giving in.

Sam and Dean left the morgue, getting into the Impala to head to a local bar to hustle pool for money. Dean looked over at his somber brother while he drove.

"I know what you're thinking, Sammy," said Dean. Sam was silent. "That she could've saved Jessica…But…I don't think she can relive years."

"I know," said Sam. "A part of me kind of wishes that I had developed Tru's power instead of visions."

Dean nodded. "I'm sorry, Sam."

That night, Harrison entered the office, spotting Tru and Davis sitting there.

"Where's the Dynamic Duo?" asked Harrison.

"They headed off to kill the werewolf," said Tru.

Harrison stared at her. "You did tell them that they're puppy chow, right?"

"They said they had it handled," said Tru. "Plus, I did warn them, so they have it under control."

"So, you guys found out who the werewolf is?" asked Harrison.

"Yeah, this teenage blonde girl," said Tru. "She had a crush on Eddie Nelson." Harrison's eyes were wide. "What?"

"She didn't happen to have big, blue eyes and wearing a pink top with a white jacket, did she?" asked Harrison.

Tru perked up at that. "You saw her?"

Harrison nodded. "Coming out of the morgue."

Tru looked over at Davis. They rushed to the security office, where the surveillance footage was. They rewound to earlier that day. Sam and Dean walked out, obviously headed to hustle pool. After they walked up the stairs, the blonde girl snuck out from her hiding place and followed them.

"That was just after we talked about the plan to trap her," said Tru. "Which means she heard the whole thing."

"Which means she'll be ready for them," said Davis.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Eight

Dean slammed the Impala to a stop, swerving to the side of the road to avoid hitting someone.

"Was that her?" asked Dean.

"Definitely," said Sam.

They darted onto the sidewalk, heading down the alley she ran down, but she was nowhere in sight.

Sam looked around at where they were standing. "Oh, this isn't good, Dean."

"You're right," said Dean. "Let's go."

They turned to leave, but the blonde girl was blocking their exit. Her eyes were lighter now, the blue almost turned to white. Her fingernails were elongated, and her teeth were sharp. She was staring intensely at Sam.

Dean began reaching for the gun tucked in the back of his jeans, but the girl darted forward a few feet, growling.

Dean raised his hands. "Easy, Fido. Take it easy." He glanced to his right to see Sam's arms were up also, and Dean spotted the gun tucked into Sam's own pants. Dean looked back up at the werewolf. "Easy now. No one has to get hurt here." He eased his way over to Sam. "You're safe. I'm not gonna hurt you." He began easing his hand down toward Sam's gun. "Easy now."

The werewolf looked down at his moving arm, growling.

"Dean!" Sam warned.

Dean grabbed the gun and aimed it at the werewolf as she pounced. The bullet grazed her arm, and she yelled in pain. She pushed Dean into the wall. He hit, falling to the pavement as he dropped the gun.

When he got up, the werewolf had picked the gun up and was aiming it at Sam. Sam stood frozen, staring down the barrel. As the werewolf moved her finger to the trigger, Dean darted forward, running as fast as he could. He couldn't let Sam die; he knew he could take a bullet. As the werewolf began to squeeze the trigger and as Dean jumped in front of Sam, a voice called out.

"Hey!"

The werewolf spun around and fired. Being startled, the bullet only hit the brick wall. The werewolf looked in confusion at Tru, who stood at the mouth of the alley. Sam made a split second decision and reached forward for the gun tucked into Dean's pants. He aimed it at the werewolf and pulled the trigger, hitting her in the heart.

The werewolf dropped to the ground and didn't move.

Dean looked up at Tru. "Thank you."

Tru shrugged. "It's my job."

Sam smacked Dean's shoulder. "What the hell was that? You were just gonna take a bullet for me?"

"Damn right I was," said Dean. Sam opened his mouth to yell. "Hey, Tru had our backs. Nice shot, by the way."

They began heading out of the alley.

"But you didn't know Tru was coming," said Sam.

"True," said Dean.

"Yeah?" said Tru.

Dean glanced back at her for a moment. "Oh, not you." He looked back at Sam as they reached the Impala. "I don't care. I wasn't gonna let you die."

"Oh, but you dying was perfectly acceptable?" said Sam.

"Hey, I can take a bullet in the shoulder," said Dean as he opened the driver's door.

"You and I both know that bullet was supposed to kill you," said Sam, opening his own door. "And you still jumped in front of it."

"Damn right," said Dean. "It's my job to protect you, little brother." He climbed into the car.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dean," said Sam as he climbed inside also.

The Impala drove off as Tru stood at the sidewalk, watching it.

Tru spread her arms to the side, frowning. "You're welcome?"

THE END


	10. Chapter 10

**WARNING!**

**Public service announcement!**

I am not quitting fanfiction! I am currently working on printing and binding my current stories for my storage. When I am finished with that, I will work on my stories again.

I will first do a songfic (my first one). Then a season three story. Then a mermaid story. Then Don't You Cry No More 3. Then The Winchester That Wasn't 2. I'm excited about all of them!

I'll see you guys in a few weeks!


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